“Fala-me A Verdade” (Tell Me the Truth) drops us into a late-night Lisbon scene where Piruka, glass in hand, wrestles with love, freedom and the famous Portuguese saudade. Over a hypnotic beat colored by Bia Caboz’s fado-tinged vocals, he begs for honesty while admitting he might drown his feelings in “só mais um copo” – just one more drink. The song plays like a dialogue: he insists he is not exclusively hers, yet he keeps waiting for her call, her scent on his pillow and the spark that turns the streetlights crimson. The push-and-pull creates a relatable portrait of modern romance – half bravado, half vulnerability.
Under the party lights we find deeper questions about identity and connection. Piruka uses rap verses to carve his own “métrica,” inviting her poetry to heal his scars, while Bia’s voice echoes the bittersweet fatalism of traditional fado. Between their lines we hear the clash of independence versus attachment: Can we claim our own space and still crave another’s presence? The answer is never simple, so the singer pours another glass, listens to the rain on the roof tiles and hopes the night lasts long enough for truth to finally arrive.